Bound
by 13teen
Summary: "There's a place that I go that nobody knows. Where the rivers flow and I call it home. And there's no more lies; in the darkness, there's light. And nobody cries, there's only butterflies. Take me away, a secret place. A sweet escape, take me away. Take me away, to better days. Take me away, a hiding place." - Pocket Full of Sunshine.


_**Another Harry Potter fanfic! Yay! Haha, I seem to be obsessed with it at the moment. But recently I've been obsessed with fanfic's to do with Tom Riddle and I decided I wanted to write one because I've suddenly come to the conclusion in my twisted mind that he's suppersexysuave-ness all wrapped up in one!  
Anyhoo . . . I don't own any of it aside from the OC Character.**_

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_"Take me away, a secret place.  
A sweet escape, take me away._

_Take me away, to better days.  
Take me away, a hiding place."_

_- Pocket Full of Sunshine: Natasha Bedingfield._

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_**Chapter One:**_

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**Chapter Quote: **_"Don't think I won't hit you."_

It was the same every year, well except that one time on my ninth birthday and when mum and dad were around, but mostly it was the same. No presents, no cake or candles, and certainly no "Happy Birthday"!'s. Two-thousand and twelve has certainly not been kind to me thus far.

But I was determined to stay positive, it was sure to turn around sooner or later, right? It wasn't going to stay like this forever . . . right?

I sighed as I brushed a lengthy stray curl behind my ear, how it escaped the bun splattered upon the top of my head I'll never know, but for now I didn't even care that my hair refused to do as it was told, no because at this point in time I was hoping to whatever magical being out there that James Burton was not residing in his home with his cowardice wife of which I was now living with.

James and Melissa Burton were my god awful foster parents who were just as bad as each other. I had been living with the two for the past six months and I have to say that I've lived with worse, though they're not the best of people.

James for starters is an alcoholic and likes to rough up his wife and myself when he comes home late from the local pub a few blocks away. I've coped many beatings over my stay here, but I've been through worse and I tell myself that every time his fist comes flying towards my face. A few weeks ago I even installed a lock on my door so he couldn't get in without a key I always wore around my neck, and now I've got fewer beatings.

Melissa on the other hand was not physically abusive, but verbally or mentally, whichever I suppose, it didn't make a difference. She'd always make snide comments towards me when we were alone, wishing for awful things to happen to me and such, I learnt to block her out after a few months.

Now, I'm not saying that I have it worse out of everyone in the whole world because that would be false, but I suppose I'm a little more unfortunate then others.

I came to a stop at the traffic lights and pushed the metal button that was stationed on the poll on the left of me. I watched patiently as various types of cars zoomed passed me.

Your probably wondering if I'm one of those over emotional people who blog about all the problems in their life trying to get attention from strangers who are most likely rapists or paedophiles and then they end up on the six o'clock news found dead somewhere in a ditch. The answer is no, I'm not. I don't act depressed, I don't dress in shades, I don't listen to heavy metal, and I certainly don't wear so much eye shadow that I end up looking like a racoon.

The sound of the beeping beside me informed my brain to start moving my legs to cross the street and head to my temporary home.

I laughed to myself as I recalled Jenifer Cottonbell inform me that I was a "weirdo" and a "freak" because I'm apparently "too happy" for her liking. I had to disagree with her though, nobody can ever be too happy. I mostly try to look on the bright side of things, because everything happens for a reason.

I looked down at my bright yellow flats and watched them as I moved one in front of the other. Jenifer then insulted the way I dressed and told me to buy something black. She didn't know that I had black clothes, unless she snuck into my home and raided my closet. I just didn't see the point in wearing something that seemed depressing if I wasn't depressed, sounds stupid to me . . .

I came to a stop and looked at the small two story house that was painted blue with a white picket fence around it. You wouldn't even think it was an abusive household because it looked so damn chipper.

I smiled in relief as I found that neither James' or Michelle's cars were in the drive way. I pushed open the gate and made sure to close it behind me as Michelle would have a fit. And walked towards the front door, pulling out my key I opened the door and let myself in, and was greeted to a quiet house. Everything was spick and span as Michelle had OCD and everything thing had its place, and everything must be clean.

I made my way up the staircase in front of me and headed to my room at the far end of the hallway. I opened the door with a twist of my key and closed it behind me with a soft click; quickly locking it behind me and pushed my wardrobe in front of it that was beside the door less the a second ago. My room was a reasonable size and could comfortably fit a single bed, a desk, a bookshelf, and my wardrobe. Though it was plain and had nothing on the walls that symbolised that someone lived in here.

I dumped my school bag on the bed and made my way back over to the wardrobe; pulling off my uniform and shuffling through the draws for my blue sleeping shorts and the matching tank top, putting them on hastily and chucking my worn clothes in the hamper, I walked over to the bookshelf, and picked up the acoustic guitar beside it. Making my way back over to my bed, I plonked back down on the lumpy mattress and strummed the wire strings.

But I changed my mind in playing it, and placed it on the bed beside me. I rummaged through my school bag and finally found what I was looking for. _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, this would be the third time I read this book. I smiled as I opened at the book mark and started to read conjuring up the scenes with my imagination.

It felt like minutes later, but I knew that roughly about two hours went by as I glanced out the window beside my bed to find the sky dark and they brown owl that lived in the tree outside my window was resting on a branch when I heard the front door slam shut and the voices of Michelle and James reached the second level of the house. They were arguing about something that I cared nothing about, but I knew that I couldn't read with the noise, so with a sigh I placed the book on top of my bag and picked the guitar back up; strumming the strings once more, turning it quickly into a tune as a song popped into my head.

"Happy birthday to me . . . Happy Birthday to me . . . Happy Birthday dear Rosie . . . Happy Birthday to –"

"Shut-up!" James shouted as he pounded on the bedroom door. I jumped and removed my hand away from the strings of the guitar, watching the wardrobe that covered the door, my heart beat picking up as adrenaline and fear ran through my body. I sighed in relief when I heard his retreating footsteps.

I picked the Harry Potter book back up and sighed heavily. "I wish I was in your world that way at least I have a chance to run away." I heaved myself up and over to the bookshelf and placed the book where it belonged, but just as I moved to place the guitar back, a chill silvered over my skin, making me clutch the guitar to my chest.

Suddenly I felt as if I was surrounded in a hurricane as wind swirled around me I closed my eyes tightly, refusing to let go of my precious guitar. And then there was no more wind. It was dead silent, which I thought was strange because James and Michelle's fights usually last hours.

I opened my right eye and almost forgot to breath. My left eyelid snapped open as I stood shell shocked in front of four extremely long tables with what seemed liked hundreds of students seated at each table . . . staring at me.

"Miss . . ." I turned on my heel faster than I thought was possible with my guitar at arm's length, threatening to smack the moron who even tried to speak to me whilst I was freaking out.

The man who spoke was taller than I was with sandy blonde hair, and brown eyes, he was also dressed in green robes.

"Calm down." He spoke softly as he started to approach me, but my defensive side kicked in.

"Don't think I won't hit you." I said as I inched the guitar to his face by the neck of it making him pause.

"Calm down, Miss." He said with raised hands.

"Shhh!" I pressed the base of the guitar to his neck. I couldn't think straight, my head hurt and my brain was trying to work out what happened, but this guy just kept blabbing. "Where am I?"

He gave me a confused look before answering, "Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"What?" I breathed out lowering my guitar and stared at him. "What year is it?"

"Nineteen forty-four, Miss." He relaxed once I moved the guitar away from him and looked around the room, taking in what I was seeing and fully registering where I was. The students were still staring at me with their 40's fashioned hair and tailored school uniforms that were nothing like mine.

My instrument fell from my grasp and cluttered to the floor beneath my feet. And soon I feel with it as my eyes rolled back and darkness embraced me, I barely felt my body hit the stone floor.

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_I'd love to know opinions! :D  
_

_-13teen xx_


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